


i open my eyes and i see that it's you.

by cahstle



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Camping, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, ish, very very background relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cahstle/pseuds/cahstle
Summary: He realizes he’s kind of fucked then. Eddie, who not even an hour ago was saying he wasn’t tired enough to go to bed just yet, is sleeping soundly on top of him, not even on the air mattress, and Richie doesn’t actually want to wake him. He’d give it another minute at most before he’s laying flat against the cold truck bed and Eddie’s hip is kind of digging down against his bladder, making it painfully obvious that he has to piss, but he would happily lay there for the rest of the night if he could.—or, the losers go camping
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	i open my eyes and i see that it's you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavenderaesthetic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavenderaesthetic/gifts).



> my contribution to the it fandom exchange !  
> the timeline and ages are unspecified, but they're in their mid-twenties

Richie can feel it the moment the air mattress pops - rather, the moment air starts leaking out enough to be noticeable. There’s not much he can do about it at the moment, with the weight of Eddie pressing down against him and the soft puffs of air against his neck that tell him Eddie really has fallen asleep. It’s probably his fault anyway, with the haphazard way he had swept out the truck bed before laying the mattress down. There had to be a rock or something beneath the plastic of the bed that caught and tore. It’s not like they had actually planned to sleep in the back of the truck, there is a tent set up for the two of them positioned a few feet to the left of the one Stan and Patty were currently occupying. 

—

Bev’s laughter reaches his ears from somewhere behind him while he’s momentarily fumbling with the tent pole he has been trying to thread for at least the past two minutes, but it definitely feels like it’s been longer. Who knew they made the opening in the canvas so small?  
“Why didn’t you buy a popup like everyone said you should?” Her voice carries across the small site - really, the space isn’t large enough for four tents and the two vehicles everyone had piled into, but they’re making it work.  
“Your unwavering faith in my ability to put up a tent is all I needed to actually get this done.” Richie would be more dedicated to the bit, pressing a hand against his chest in a dramatic gesture, if he hadn’t finally slipped the end of the pole through the hole in the canvas. “Ha!”  
Eddie snorts softly somewhere behind his shoulder and he doesn’t turn to look at him, but he’s beaming anyway. There’s plenty of daylight left, and he doesn’t care that theirs is the only tent not yet staked down. 

—

He realizes he’s kind of fucked then. Eddie, who not even an hour ago was saying he wasn’t tired enough to go to bed just yet, is sleeping soundly on top of him, not even on the air mattress, and Richie doesn’t actually want to wake him. He’d give it another minute at most before he’s laying flat against the cold truck bed and Eddie’s hip is kind of digging down against his bladder, making it painfully obvious that he has to piss, but he would happily lay there for the rest of the night if he could. He reaches up with one hand, sliding his fingertips against Eddie’s back beneath the blanket pulled over the both of them, to run his fingers through the hair against the back of Eddie’s skull. Satisfied with the soothing movement, he peers off to the side where a citronella candle is flickering despite the lack of wind. He’ll give himself until the candle burns low enough to snuff itself out, he decides. 

—

There’s a half-empty bottle of cider in Richie’s hand, his legs are stretched out in front of him while he’s leaning back against Eddie’s chest, and the crackling fire they’re circling is keeping him pleasantly warm. If he thinks about it, he can’t actually remember who got the fire started let alone who gathered the materials to do so. He knows none of them brought along fire logs to actually keep anything going, instead choosing to brave the act of finding enough fuel for a fire each night.  
Bill, Mike, Stan, and Patty are all in various states of inebriation and seated around a folding table, playing some card game Richie had given up trying to pay attention to. The sound of their chatter and intermittent laughter makes something warm and bright bloom in Richie’s chest. He blinks back into sudden awareness when Bev’s legs draped over his own, but she just offers him a grin and he lets himself zone back out with Eddie’s fingers running through his hair while he speaks softly with Ben, and listens to the bright medley of sound that bounces around in the small space they’ve claimed.

—

The fire is mostly embers when Bill and Mike call it a night, saying soft goodnights and stumbling happily away to zip themselves up in their tent and leave Richie and Eddie as the only two left. Stan and Patty had been the first ones to call it, but Bev and Ben hadn’t been terribly far behind them.  
“Gettin’ sleepy yet, Eds?” Richie’s voice is soft as he tips his head back and minutely to the side against Eddie’s chest so he can peer up at his expression. Instead of giving Richie a nice view up his nose, Eddie dips his head down to press a kiss against Richie’s hairline.  
A soft, thoughtful hum bubbles up in Eddie’s throat and he doesn’t pull away when he answers, mumbling against Richie’s skin. “Not really,”  
Richie’s head is buzzing pleasantly and there’s a grin on his face when he slowly peels himself out of Eddie’s arms and onto legs he was certain were going to protest. He reaches back down, both arms offered to help haul Eddie to his feet, and the gesture is accepted with an arched brow.  
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not taking you to bed. I’m just… taking you to bed. Whatever.” The words aren’t mumbled or slurred, but Richie almost stumbles over them. He doesn’t drop Eddie’s hands, instead stepping blindly backward the direction of the truck parked on the edge of the campsite. Their tent was staked down near the truck bed because Richie somehow had the foresight to not want to lug their air mattress across the space in the dead of night.  
The tailgate is still pulled down when Richie comes to a stop after bumping into the side of the truck. He hadn’t stumbled, but a huff of laughter bubbled up in Eddie’s throat regardless. Richie’s expression cracks open into something soft and fond at the sound and he drops Eddie’s hands reluctantly, but necessarily.  
Without farther preamble, he clambers up onto the bed of the truck. The worn plastic creaks under his weight, but he doesn’t fumble. He kicks his shoes off the edge of the tailgate before turning around and peeling up the blanket off of the air mattress he had set up earlier. “Come on, up you get.”  
“Up I get,” he can hear it when Eddie repeats the words, but he’s already crawling onto the bed while Eddie hops up on the tailgate. “When did you set this up?”  
It’s nothing too special, just their bed and some pillows and blankets along with a citronella candle to keep the mosquitos away, but the position of the truck gives them and open view of the night sky above. Richie could lie and say it wasn’t meant to be a surprise, but he likes the soft expression Eddie’s wearing too much. “Uh, when you, Stan, and Bev walked out to the bathrooms.”  
Eddie is curled up next to him beneath the heavy blanket, head pillowed on his shoulder seemingly between one blink of his eyes and the next. It’s a comfortable silence between the two of them, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing atop of the humming of cicadas and chirping of crickets while they peer up at the stars that Richie dares compare to the beauty that is the expanse of Eddie’s freckled skin.

—

Richie doesn’t notice it at first when the candle flame actually does smother and he isn’t sure how much time has passed before it catches his attention. Not that it matters much, he’s been laying on the bumpy bed of the truck for some time now. Eddie hasn’t stirred. Though Richie has been watching him through the fluttering lashes of eyelids that have been growing progressively heavier instead of the night sky above. For a moment, he imagines Eddie’s voice the next morning when the rising sun rouses him from his slumber. He knows there’s going to be complaints - words about sunscreen and the bugs and animals that call these woods home. Richie tightens his arms around Eddie’s waist, daring to brave them as he lets the soft sound of Eddie’s breathing lull him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> this is very unbeta'd.  
> the title comes from florence and the machine's song swimming  
> comments and kudos are much appreciated !


End file.
